


Little Moments

by DelphiniumLily



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caregiver! Cas, Caregiver! Dean, Daddy! Sam, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Little! Original Female Character, Lot of blankets, Slow Burn, Soft Winchester Boys, Trauma, and hot cocoa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2019-09-30 07:02:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17219168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelphiniumLily/pseuds/DelphiniumLily
Summary: Elizabeth is a hunter with a rough past, dredged up when a group of what she thinks to be hunters attacks her. Cas comes to the rescue, bringing her to stay with Sam and Dean for her protection.Elizabeth has a tendency to revert to childlike behavior when under stress, it piques the boys' interest, Sam does a little digging, and unbeknownst to her, plans to fully engage her Little side using what he's discovered.Please feel free to give me prompts, I don't have a lot of writing motivation right now and with that comes lack of ideas...





	1. Chapter 1

I throw back the last of my drink, the whiskey a pleasant burn my throat, and get up to leave. A hand on my arm pulls me back, and I whip around to meet the sneer of an older man- by the looks of it, another hunter. “Well, well, well, what’ve we got here, hmm?”

“Excuse me, if you will.” I yank my arm back, “I’ve got places to be.”

“We’re not done with you yet, little miss,” he taunts, dark eyes flashing dangerously. I scoff and stomp out, pulling my leather jacket over my shoulders.

The air outside the bar is crisp, and I suck in a sobering breath. My last hunt hadn’t gone so well, I’d ended up tracing an angry werewolf back to a few cubs-mental note to self that adding cubs to the equation results in far more danger than one lone wolf.

I shiver slightly, the hairs on the back of my neck rising. I unfurl from my huddled stance, squaring my shoulders, “Whoever’s there, you can come out.”

Fear bites at me at the low chuckle from the shadows, and a figure steps out. I recognize the bald head, light from the streetlamp reflecting off of the bare skin. I force out a laugh, “Thought I was pretty clear earlier about not being interested.”

He steps into the light, my eyes following the tattoos on his arms to his hands, in which a knife is clutched. My eyes widen, but I swallow down the rising panic. “I told you, pretty thing, we’re not quite done with you.”

Suddenly, two new shapes take form behind him. I take a step back, my back hitting brick as I pull my own knife from my boot. He glances down at it.

“Sorry, Baldy. Mine’s bigger,” I smirk, the pounding of my heart accelerating as I realize I’ve been cornered.

His lip pulls back in a sneer, “Now, is that any way to talk to your future master?”

“Master?” I snarl, “What the hell are you talking about?”

He and the posse step forward, and I raise my knife in warning, “Don’t even think about coming closer, or you’ll regret it.”

“Oh, we’ve been keeping an eye on you for a while now, Elizabeth.” He turns to his comrades, “Ain’t that right boys? We’re gonna make a lot of money off of you, that pretty blonde hair…” He licks his lips, “Pretty little body too.”

I spit at him in disgust, delivering the first punch and ducking to avoid the response, “Sorry, I like my men with hair,” I grin, “And a backbone.”

He growls, eyes flashing in offense. He jumps in, slashing at my arm, his blade catching on my shoulder. I wince, delivering a kick to his gut, and hold my knife in front of me towards his partners.

_Of course they had to be twins, _I thought, _totally not creepy at all _. I was starting to feel more and more like the protagonist of a bad horror film.____

_____ _

_____ _

“Let’s make this rated R, shall we?” The brothers share a look of confusion, but shrug and advance.

The fight picks up then, and I soon find myself tiring. Holding off three guys is harder than it looks, and I’ve gotten several deep gashes by now. _God, help me, _I plead.__

____

____

Thunder crashes suddenly, and my attacker pauses momentarily. Seeing my opportunity, I thrust my knife into his chest, buried to the hilt. He gapes at me, blood dripping from his chin.

A furious snarl comes from behind me, and panic overtakes me, I don’t have a weapon anymore.

I back up quickly, bumping into something solid. I jump back, ready to swing, but stop in surprise.

“Cas?” Disbelief courses through me, followed by a torrent of relief.

His stormy blue eyes turn on me, “You prayed, didn’t you?”

A laugh bubbles form my chest, I couldn’t believe my luck. He pulls me behind him, Baldy and his friend having watched the whole interaction with curiosity.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Why, I am Castiel, angel of the Lord,” Cas states matter-of-factly, “I do believe you’ve traumatized this poor girl enough for one night.” He unsheathes his angel blade, moving so quickly I barely have time to blink before he’s at my side once again.

I survey the damage. Two heads loll on the ground, bodies crumpled next to them.

I hold back the urge to vomit, covering my mouth. Cas turns to me, encasing me in strong arms, “I’ve got you, Elizabeth. You’re safe now.”

I allow myself to be comforted for a moment before pulling back, “Who were those guys, Cas? What did they want with me-I mean, they said they’d been following me?”

Castiel’s lips purse thoughtfully, “Let’s get you somewhere safe, and then I’ll explain.”

I open my mouth to protest, but he silences me, “Your room at the motel might’ve been compromised.” He thinks for a moment, “I know someone you can stay with.”


	2. Sam and Dean who

Nausea rolls through me as he zaps us back to the motel with his Angel voodoo. Upon our arrival, I pack my things quickly, stuffing everything into my green duffel bag.

Cas watches me, and I take his outstretched hand.

“Give a girl a little warning next time, Cas, geez,” I mumble dizzily. I open my eyes, taking in my surroundings. I’m in someone’s house, obviously- there’s a couch and TV, and a hall leading to a kitchen, and a few other doors I can’t see behind. 

A man rushes into the room, brandishing a gun. He huffs a breath upon seeing Cas, but eyes me warily. 

“Heya, buddy. Who’s the girl?”

“Dean,” Cas addresses the young, somewhat attractive male, “This is Elizabeth, I found her just outside the bar. O’Donell and the Ross twins were after her.”

Dean seems troubled at this knowledge, but extends a hand for me to shake, “Liz,” I say, “Nice to meet you, Dean.”

He grunts tossing a, “Sammy! Get in here,” over his shoulder. A lanky man enters the living room, “What’s a’ matter, Dean?” His gaze falls on me, and he stops mid-head scratch. 

“Uh..Hi,” he offers with a small smile, “I’m Sam, Dean’s brother."

“Hi, I’m Elizabeth, but you can call me Liz.” I give a shy wave, suddenly feeling small in his presence, his build tall and strong, like that of his brother. 

He cocks his head at me, and I step slightly closer to Cas, which both brothers seem to pick up on. Dean clears his throat, “I suggest we take this to the couch for further discussion.” 

Once we’re seated and Sam has brought out some hot chocolate for all of us, Dean turns to me for explanation. 

After recounting my story, and giving a little background on myself, everyone seems a little more comfortable with me being there, and I finally allow myself to relax a bit. 

“So, Cas, who were those guys?” I try to keep my questions one at a time.

He glances at Sam and Dean, “We believe they work for a… cartel of sorts.” My interest is peaked, and I lean forward a bit more, “What kind of cartel?”

Sam cuts in here, “Elizabeth- Liz,” soft hazel eyes meet my own, “These guys are really dangerous. We’ve been trying to get a lead on them for a while, the fact that you held off three of them for so long is incredible.”

The praise sinks into me warmly, and I shiver slightly, “They said they’d been watching me for a while, why did they wait so long to come for me?”

Dean purses his lips before answering, “They’ve mostly gone after the weaker, more helpless people, specifically young blonde women.” I frown at this, but let him continue. 

“We think they realized you’re a hunter, and therefore stronger than their usual prey.”

I nod, “That’s why they waited, they wanted to catch me off guard.”

“Exactly,” Sam voices an affirmative, “Is there anything you can tell us about them that might help us?”

I glance up, wracking my brain for anything. 

“One of them- the bald one, said something about making money off of me, called himself my master,” I spit out the word. Castiel rubs a comforting palm over the back of my neck and I lean into it gratefully. 

“It seems a lot like a trafficking circle, if you think about it.” Sam ponders aloud, “I mean, the girls, all pretty and young, wouldn’t be able to put up a fight, money, the whole master thing?”

“I’m getting a very 50 Shades of Grey vibe here,” Dean mutters, “So, how’re we gonna catch these sons-a-bitches?”

The three men eye each other, and then look at me. Castiel sighs, “Elizabeth, you’ve had a trying night, I suggest you try to get some rest, and we can talk about it more in the morning?”

I start to protest, “I want to help-“

Sam cuts me off, “Come on, Cas is right, you should rest.” His tone leaves no room for argument, and something in me settles. I give in, nodding softly. He smiles brightly at me, “Come on, you can have the guest bed.” I follow him down the hall, footsteps padding softly on the wooden floor, duffel bag in hand.

“Hold on a sec.” He ducks into another room, coming out a minute later, holding a pair of sweatpants and a soft t-shirt. 

I let him lead me the last few steps to a small room, furnished with a bed, dresser, and a nightstand. “I’ll let you get changed,” he hands me the clothes in his arms, “ Bathroom’s down the hall and my room’s right next door if you need anything.” He pauses for a second, “Please don’t hesitate to ask, Elizabeth.”

I call out, “Hey, Sam,” as he turns to go. He turns back to me, inclining his head.

“Thank you,” I murmur. 

“Of course. Sleep tight, Liz.” He grins at me, and I can’t help but grin back. 

I barely put on the sweatpants, which I have to roll up because Jesus, this guy is tall, when exhaustion hits me. 

I slide off my own jacket and shirt, leaving my bra on. The cotton sleep shirt Sam had given me is soft, and feels worn. I slide into the bed, snuggling deep into the covers. I’m asleep in mere seconds.


	3. Panic with the Cocoa

I wake up with a groan, sitting up slowly. Last night comes rushing back to me, now that the alcohol is out of my system, I can process it more clearly. I push my fear to the back of my mind, I was a target, but at least I was aware now. 

I push out from under the covers, grabbing a toothbrush and my shower necessities before padding to the bathroom at the end of the hall. 

The warm water feels heavenly and refreshing against my back, but I don’t stay under the spray for too long, quickly washing my hair and turning off the water.

I towel off, putting on the same shirt I slept in and rubbing my hair with the towel till it’s merely damp instead of dripping. 

Freezing, I realize I forgot a pair of pants. I must’ve kicked my sweatpants off sometime during the night. Sam’s shirt is long enough it goes down to mid-thigh anyway, so I shrug and exit the bathroom. 

I make my way out into the kitchen, stomach rumbling a bit. I’m greeted by Dean, who gives me a once-over before handing me a plate. 

“Thanks, Dean,” I accept the food, blushing at his chuckle when he sees how quickly I tuck in.

“Hey, it’s delicious, and the first decent meal I’ve had in a while,” I defend myself and he chuckles again, hands up in surrender,

“Okay, whatever you say.” I smile at him around a piece of bacon, and he gives a gentle smile back as he raises his coffee to his lips. I turn as Sam enters the kitchen, and set down my fork. 

“Sam, Dean,” both boys turn their attention to me, “I wanna thank you guys for letting me stay last night, I owe you- and for breakfast, Dean. I’ll be out of your hair soon- promise.”

Sam scoffs, “Liz…do you really think we’d just turn you back out onto the street after something like that?”

My head snaps up to meet his gaze, “You mean, I can stay? I really don’t want to impose.” His smile is dazzling, 

“Of course, Dean and I aren’t savages,” he casts Dean a look, who freezes mid bite, bacon dangling from his mouth and juice on his chin, “Okay- I’m not a savage.”

I laugh as Dean mocks offense, hand over his heart. He grins, but his face turns serious. “Really, Elizabeth. We mean it, you can stay here for as long as you like. If Cas trusts you, we have no reason not to.” 

“Thank you, guys. I can help too! Around the house, or on hunts, I’m pretty good, I actually just bagged a werewolf- werewolf mom actually, she had cubs.” I blush as I realize I’ve been rambling, but neither hunter looks like they’re judging me. 

“I don’t know about hunts as of right now, you’re still in danger, and it’s our job to protect you now, too.” Sam’s voice is steady. 

I sigh, “I’m only agreeing to this because you’re letting me stay here, but that doesn’t mean I like it.”

“Didn’t expect you to. Can’t exactly stop hunting once you’re in the business, can ya?” Dean rests his elbows on the counter, eyebrows raised, “But, you will listen to us while you stay here, clear?”

I nod quickly, “Of course, yeah- crystal clear.” I refuse to acknowledge the part of me that’s excited by the tone of Dean’s voice. 

I shift slightly, wincing at the pain in my side. I bring a hand up to cup my ribs, grimacing at the sharp sting. When I bring my hand away it’s coated in blood, and I look up to meet Dean’s worried gaze. 

Sam curses, “I can’t believe we didn’t check you for injuries, shit, I’m sorry, Liz,” he rushes to my side, first aid kit in hand, “Here, let me have a look.”

“I-I can bandage it myself.” It comes out weakly, and Sam looks at me questioningly.

“Don’t be silly, me and Sammy here’ll patch you right up, don’t you worry,” Dean assures, but I slide off the chair and take a step back. 

The worry on their faces only seems to heighten, “No- that’s okay, I can manage,” I take a steadying breath, “Really, no biggie. Done it plenty of times before.” Insecurity wiggles itself to the forefront of my mind, that cut isn’t the only scar I’ve got. 

“Elizabeth, we won’t hurt you, I promise,” Sam puts his hands out in a placating gesture, and Dean nods behind him, “We just want to help.”

Tears well up in my eyes, and I blink them away before the boys can see. Rule number one, no crying. 

“I… That cartel,” I begin, “It’s not the first one that’s come after me.”

Shock is evident on their features. Sam’s mouth is open, and I huff a weak laugh, “That’s why I could fight them all off at once… it wasn’t my first scuffle like that. I didn’t want to say anything, I know I should’ve, I’m sorry. I understand if you want me out of your house, really- I can pack up and leave as soon as you want.” My voice breaks and tears find their way down my cheeks. So much for that rule, Allister. 

Sam steps closer and I glance up, body tensing, but he just steps forward and gathers me into his arms. I hold very still, but then there’s a warm pair of hands soothing me, one cupping my neck and the other rubbing up and down my back, and I just break. He gently lowers us so that he’s kneeling on the floor and I’m in his arms. 

“Shh, I’ve got you, it’s okay, you’re okay,” Sam whispers words of comfort in my ear, and I sob harder, embarrassment stoking the river of hot tears. Dean soon joins the hug, gently petting my hair and smoothing a hand over my arm. 

“We still need to get you bandaged up, doll,” he says it gently, and amidst all my crying, my face still has nerve to color itself like a beet at the term of endearment. I sniffle pathetically, and extract myself from Sam’s warmth. 

I apologize at the sight of Sam’s shirt, snotty and wet from my tears. He reassures me, playing with the hem of the shirt he lent me.

“Can I take this off, have a look at where you’re hurt?” 

“You won’t judge me?” The fear in my voice is evident, and he shakes his head, “Of course not, trust me, I’ve got a few scars of my own.” His hazel eyes are soft, and their gaze is gentle. I nod slowly, trusting him. 

“Okay then, Liz. Can you lift your arms for me?” I comply slowly, his sweet tone calming me. Dean is ready with warm gauze and the first aid kit. 

“Okay now, we just need to have a look now, can you tell me where it hurts?” Dean carefully wraps and bandages each place I point to, neither brother says a word about the numerous lines on my stomach. 

As Dean takes care of the last cut, Sam takes my hands in one of his large ones, and wipes my remaining tears form my cheeks with the other. 

“There you go, all done,” Dean pulls the shirt back down over his work, “I make a pretty good nurse, don’t I, Lizzie?” I giggle a little, imagining Dean as a nurse. 

He smiles at me, “There she is.” I drop my eyes, guilt washing over me.

“I’m sorry for all of that,” I glance up, “Thank you for patching me up Dean, you boys have been so nice to me, I’m sorry I was such a baby about that- I’m not usually like that, I promise.”

Sam sighs, “Elizabeth, it’s okay, really. We had no idea you’d gone through that before, anyone would’ve reacted the same way.”

Dean places a hand on my shoulder, “If you’re comfortable with it, would you want to have some hot chocolate and maybe talk about it a little more?” I ponder it for a moment, “Or if not, we can just have hot cocoa and find a movie to watch, that sound good?”

I blow out a breath, “Yeah that sounds good, Dean, thank you.”

“Alright, Sammy, you’re on hot cocoa duty, I’m gonna grab a few blankets while you,” he points to me with a smile, "pick a movie, okay?”

I nod, encouraged by another soft smile from Sam, “Go on.” I find their movie selection by the TV, getting the choice down to either the first Harry Potter, or Moana. They have Moana? Maybe they’re softer than I thought. 

By the time I’ve made my selection, Sam is carrying in a few mugs and a bag of marshmallows and Dean can be seen tripping over an armful of blankets. I giggle and point it out to Sam, who throws his head back and laughs. “Good spotting, Liz. Absolutely priceless.”

Dean’s pout says he doesn’t quite agree, but he gives in and cracks a smile when Sam teases him further. 

“Have we reached a decision on the movie for tonight?” Dean ruffles Sam’s hair, laughing as Sam smacks it away.

I hold up the two, and Sam cheers, “Harry Potter, yes! Good choice, Liz.” I blush, the praise settling warmly in my stomach. 

“Nerdy Potter it is,” Dean grumbles, but he winks at me and gestures to Sam, who seems mortally offended at Harry being called nerdy. I look back to Dean, and we share a grin. 

Dean shakes one of the blankets out, and drapes it over my shoulders. He plops down next to me on the couch, feet on the coffee table, our cocoa mugs in hand. He turns to me, “Marshmallows?”

I scoff, “Do you really have to ask?” Sam grumbles something about healthiness, which Dean and I choose to ignore in favor of piling our cups high with the fluffy white ingredient. 

The movie starts up, and I settle down, warm and content. 

It’s not long before Harry’s living predicament dredges up memories of my own, and I set down my cocoa, pulling the blanket further around myself. “Done?” Sam asks and, when I nod, takes my mug to be washed at the sink with his and Dean’s. 

When he comes back, he motions for me to scoot, essentially forcing me to press against Dean’s side as Sam settles on the other side of me. 

“What is this, a hunter sandwich?” I mumble, and Sam laughs, only pressing closer to me. HIs body heat is comforting, and I snuggle deeper down into my blanket. 

As the movie goes on, my mind drifts further back to the memories I’ve tried to block for years. 

_The winter air is harsh, wind stinging my cheeks as I hurry home from school. The bag on my back swings as I increase my pace, I can’t be late- Dad is going to kill me. I chew my bottom lip raw with worry._

_A breath of relief escapes me as my house comes into view, I’m on time. I trot up the steps, the door swinging open with a creak._

_“Dad! I’m home!” There’s a crash from upstairs, followed by some cursing. A woman runs down the stairs, and my dad appears soon after, holding a shoe- heels higher than I’ve  
ever seen. How can someone wear that and not break their ankles, I ask myself. My dad catches sight of me, expression turning sour._

_“What’re ya doing home so early, huh?” He swaggers slightly, “Thought I told ya t’be here at 4:00.”_

_“It is 4:00, dad. I was trying to hurry home to get here on time, you said not to be late, remember?” My voice is small and afraid._

_He stiffens with anger, “You talkin’ back to me?”_

_At this, the woman turns to him, “She’s just a kid, Larry, cut her some slack.”_

_He throws her shoe at her, barely missing her as it knocks a vase over, sending shards careening across the floor. Tears well up in my eyes, fear beating a funny rythmn with my heart against my rib cage._

_“Shut up, Wendy. What’dya know about havin’ kids anyhow, whore?” I gasp at the rude word. Wendy seems to harden, tugging on her shoe, and slamming the door shut behind her as she goes._

_“As for you, you little bitch.” I stumble backwards, crying out as I slip and pierce my leg with one of the shards from the broken vase._

_His eyes glitter sadistically, “Clean this mess up, and then get in your room.”_

_I gulp, knowing he’ll beat me if I make any noise. As quietly as I can, I turn over and begin picking up pieces. His footsteps thud down the stairs behind me, my heart rabbiting around in my chest. ___

__Hands are shaking me, voices fading in and out in the background, “..beth… hear me?”_ _

__I take a huge gulp of air, scrabbling off the couch. Sam and Dean are standing up, eyes lit up with worry._ _

__“Liz, what’s goin on? Can you tell us what happened?” Dean moves around the couch, and I sag against the wall in defeat. I close my eyes, tears tracking down my cheeks._ _

__“It was just-,” My voice is rough. I swallow before continuing, “-just a flashback.” Sam crouches down in front of me, “One hell of a flashback, you were just sitting there, shaking. You didn’t respond when we called your name, or shook you.”_ _

__“Do you wanna tell us what it was about?” Dean asks cautiously._ _

__I wipe the tears off my cheeks, sighing, “It was about my dad…”_ _

__I recount the flashback for them, “He locked me in my room for almost a week after that. Said it was my lesson for being such a burden to him. I learned to stash food in my room after that.”_ _

__Sam’s eyes are watery when he speaks, “I’m so sorry, Elizabeth. Nobody deserves to go through that.”_ _

__Dean’s response carries a different nature, “Where the hell is he? I’m gonna kill that asshole.”_ _

__I laugh quietly, “Someone already beat you to it. Guys who were after me last time.” I look down at my lap, picking at my fingers, “Silver lining, I guess.”_ _

__Sam must’ve noticed my bad habit, because he takes my hands in his._ _

__“Can I hug you?” I look up in surprise, but nod after a moment. His arms envelope me, pulling me into him. He’s warm, and firm against me and I allow myself to go slack against him, drained of all energy I had before._ _

__“Is there anything else you want to talk about, or get off your chest while we’re already talking about it?”_ _

__I burrow further into Sam, and he rubs my back, “Take all the time you need.”_ _


	4. Tissues for your Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out a little more about Liz's past in this one, she gets a bit closer to the boys.

After a minute, I’ve collected myself a bit more, so I pull back with a sigh. Dean hands me a few tissues, which I accept with a small smile of thanks, and proceed to blow my nose.

I set the tissues down next to me. “What do you wanna know?”

Sam’s eyebrows furrow, and he glances at Dean. “You said it wasn’t the first time…?” He trails off, and I nod.

“It was about 8 years ago, I was 15,” Dean’s eyebrows shoot up, “I know,” I concede, and he shuts his mouth, allowing me to continue, “I was in high school when I noticed my dad had started inviting weird men over a lot, there was always someone over when I came home from school.”

“Different guys? Or always the same one?” Dean questions.

I shake my head, “No, it was usually just the same one, he’d be over every week for dinner. My dad always made me cook those nights,” I laugh, “My cooking was ass.”

Dean huffs a laugh, “Now, was that on purpose, or would Gordon Ramsey call you an idiot sandwich?”

I giggle and smack his arm, “I do not suck at cooking, I just suck at cooking for people I don’t want to cook for…”

Sam nods, “So this guy, he have a name?”

“Went by Crowley, short guy, dark hair. Nice accent though.” I see a look of recognition pass over their faces, “What- you knew him?”

“He’s a demon-“

Dean buts in, “Not just any demon. He’s king of the crossroads.”

“Was,” I add, “Was king of the crossroads.” At the boys incredulous faces, I continue, “I’ll get to that in a minute. Anyway, Crowley would come around once or twice a week, for about a year. A month before my 16th birthday, a new guy showed up.”

Sam’s brushes a thumb over my knuckle, and I realize he’s still holding my hand. “He gave me the creeps from the start, asked me weird questions- was I a virgin, did I have a boyfriend? Just weird stuff,” I pause, trying to read Sam’s expression.

“It’s okay, go ahead,” he says softly.

“The day I turned 16, I remember he showed up unannounced. Said he was here to collect a debt.”

“He didn’t get what he came for, but he still got what he wanted, didn’t he?” The meaning of Dean’s question is clear. I nod,

“He shot my dad before he could even get the chance to pay whatever he owed. He was really there for me. The last thing I remember about that night is trying to run. Obviously I didn’t make it very far.” I give a self-deprecating laugh.

“What happened next?”

“When I woke up, I was in a cell, underground. There were more as far as I could see down the hall. All full of girls, some even younger than I was.” I shudder, lips pressing into a firm line.

“I spent six months there, we were always blindfolded and cuffed whenever we had to work, so I never saw any faces. Except one, that is.” Red hot anger bubbles in my veins, the familiar voice scraping over my mind like nails on a chalkboard.

_I’ve missed you, pretty thing._

“Allister. Yellow-eyed son-of-a-bitch. He was a regular, always took off my blindfold. Said he wanted-wanted me to see how he was going to ruin me. Said he was gonna carve his brand into me, that I should see his claim on me.”

My voice is trembling, “He said I was his favorite, that he wanted to buy me so he could have me all to himself-but the big boss wouldn’t let him. Once, he let a name slip. Raphael. He beat me so badly, he thought I wouldn’t remember.” I look up, vision blurred from my tears, but I can make out the rage in Sam’s expression.

“Anyway, one day, I’m being taken to him like usual, but the guards seem spooked. Whispering to each other about angels.”

There’s a rustling sound, and suddenly Cas stands before you.

“I led my battalion to war that day, we destroyed Raphael’s forces. I found this one gauging Allister’s eyes out.”

“You’ve always been a fighter, huh.” The way Sam says it sounds more like an observation than a question. I shrug,

“I saw my chance and took it. Obviously he came back, but I heard he found justice at the hands of two brothers a while back…”

I trail off, and it’s clear in Dean’s expression my guess was correct, “Ridding the earth of scum one by one.”

“Anyways, Cassie here saved me,” I smile brightly up at the angel.

“All I did was distract the guards, you broke free on your own,” He turns to Sam and Dean, “This little one with a knife is fearsome to behold.”

I blush at the name, but meet Cas’s grin with one of my own, “Yeah, but then you did your whole _I am Castiel, big scary angel_ thing and smote everyone.”

Dean laughs, “Spot on impression, Liz.”

I smile, but quickly sober as I return to the topic, “Luckily, Cas got there in time, at least for me. A few of the higher-ups managed to escape, from what I’ve been told.”

“Crowley has been apprehended, thanks to Liz,” I meet Dean’s surprised gaze, smirking a bit, “Raphael also escaped, so it’s likely this new ring is under his control. It  
surprises me that he would go after you again.”

“Personal vendetta, maybe?” Dean pipes up, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the couch.

I pick up the tissues from where they lay on the floor beside me, standing up and stretching to ease the stiffness of my muscles. “Maybe, or he’s just dumb.”

“Elizabeth, it is unwise to speak in such a manner towards Raphael. He may be doing awful things, but he is an archangel nonetheless.”

I roll my eyes, “Whatever.”

Cas grabs my wrist, “Listen to me. He will not stop until he gets what he wants, or someone kills him first.”

I shake my head yes, “I understand, I’m sorry. It’s just a defense mechanism- joking around.”

He releases his hold on me, and turns to Dean, “There are matters we must attend to,” he glances towards Sam, “Sam, stay with her here. Dean and I will be back shortly.”

They’re gone before I get a chance to ask their destination. I look at Sam, “Guess it’s just you and me, huh?”

He brushes some hair out of his face, chuckling, “Guess so.”

I look down and play with my fingers, _great. He’s probably not too happy about that_

“Hey, what’dya say you help me with some research for Bobby?” He asks.

I look up, once again feeling small compared to Sam, “Sure, I’d like that. Any way I can help.”

He rewards me with a smile, and gestures for me to follow him, “Come on, I’ll show you the library.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one's so short, we should get to see more little Liz and Daddy Sam soon. Feel free to give suggestions for where to take this story.


	5. Good Girl

I’d been staying with the boys for about three months, in which time I’d learned Dean had a serious pie addiction, Sam was a nerd, and both boys looked damn good sweaty. They liked to work out in plain sight, it was both a blessing and a curse. 

I stumbled out of my room, hair barely held together in a bun, rubbing my eyes. “Is that,” my sentence is interrupted by a yawn, “bacon, I smell?

Dean chuckles, “Aw, is Sleeping Beauty finally awake?”

“Shut up,” I groan, face flushing with embarrassment, “I had a late night, okay?”

His eyebrows raise, “Uh huh.” I smack him teasingly, causing him to hold his shoulder and pout, “Sammy, she’s bein’ mean again!”

I stick my tongue out, “Yeah but Dean was making fun of me- it was self-defense!”

Sam chuckles and shakes his head, “You two are ridiculous.” Dean and I give him matching pouts, “Babies, both of you. Now sit down so I can get food into ya before you throw tantrums. ”

I comply, sliding into a chair at the counter, taking a sip of the coffee Dean slides over to me. I grin at the sight of him, fork held at the ready in his fist. 

“Bon Appetite,” Sam’s bad French accent makes me laugh and I take the plate with a thanks, moaning around my fork at the delicious flavor of the omelette Sam had made me. 

“S’ good, Sammy,” Dean slurs around a bite of his own.

“Is that Dean liking something healthy?” I tease, “Never thought I’d see the day.” He glares at me, and I put my hands up in surrender. I meet Sam’s eyes, his lips twisting into a grin, which I heartily return.

Breakfast wraps itself up when Cas appears, something dark flickering in his eyes. “We’ve got a hunt.”

All three of us straighten up, playful mood gone. Dean wipes his mouth with a napkin, “What’s the job?” 

“Fourteen dead, just outside Queens. It looks to be witches- at least 3.”

“Always wanted to go to New York,” Dean jokes, but the humor has left his tone, “Gear up, let’s get this show on the road.” 

We gather our things, this is the second hunt I’ve been on with the boys, we hashed it out and I finally convinced them I wasn’t totally useless with a gun.

I meet Dean outside, throwing my duffel in Baby’s trunk. I look up at him, giving him a small smile. He nods back at me, face solemn. It’s moments like these where I sympathize with Dean- there is no respite when you work a job like ours. 

I get in back of the Impala, Sam and Dean in the front. “Get cozy back there,” Dean’s voice is low and gravely, “It’s gonna be a long ride.”

I yawn, leaning against the window, “No problemo.” Along with the smooth rumble of the engine, and Dean’s classic rock playing softly through the speakers, sleep quickly overtakes me.

A gentle shake awakens me, Sam’s face swimming into vision. He smiles, “Hey there,” he holds up a bag,”We stopped for food. I got you a burger.”

I sit up, making grabby hands for the food, mumbling a soft, “Thank you Sammy.” 

Something passes over his face, and he slowly hands me the bag. I unwrap the burger, eyes closing in bliss as I take my first bite.

“Good?” He asks quietly. I nod, humming an affirmative. “Good, I’m glad.”

He steps out of the door, getting back in the passenger seat. 

“Where are we, anyway?” I ask, mouth full of burger. 

“We should have about two hours left, should get there in time to grab dinner and then check into the motel.” Sam reaches into his bag, “Cas got us the vic reports spouses filed. Here, take a look.” He passes a stack of files back to me.

“Thanks,” I glance up, “See any connections?”

His brows furrow, “They’re mostly male, all of em’ were married.” 

I nod, nibbling my bottom lip. “What about kids? Looks like they all had at least one. Maybe they were somehow involved?”

“What, like a youth group?” Dean jokes.

“It’s possible, ironically, some witches still attend church. Keeps up normalcy within their communities, plus it’s a good way to recruit new members,” Sam suggests. 

“Big victim pool too. We should talk to the priest, see if he might know something,” I voice my thoughts.

“Good thinking,” Sam praises, and I smile. 

I finish reading the files, asking again how much longer we have. 

“What are you, like, five?” Dean snaps, “We get there when we get there.”

I shrink back a bit, “Sorry.” Sam seems to notice, because he shoots Dean a glare. He turns back to me, 

We’ve got about an hour left,” he smiles a little, dimple on show, “You should try to get a little more sleep. We probably won’t be getting much the next couple days.”

“Yeah, okay, sure,” I ramble an answer, jerking up to look at Sam, and then back down to the files. I set them on the seat next to me, curling up against the window again. 

I must’ve drifted off, because when I wake up next it’s from small jostling movements. I lift my head, “Wha? Where ‘m I?”

“Shh, I’m taking you to bed,” Sam whispers. 

“M’kay,” I mumble, head lolling back in Sam’s arms. Sam’s arms? Why am I in Sam’s arms? My eyes snap open, and I stiffen, face going red.

Sam chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. If I weren’t so embarrassed, the feeling would be calming. “You fell asleep in the car, I didn’t want to wake you,” he explains.

I blush again, “Oh… I can walk now, if you wanna set me down.” We’ve reached the motel room, which he’s somehow managed to unlock without dropping me. 

He looks at me, hazel eyes glinting in the soft light of the setting sun, “That’s alright, we’re here anyway.”

He carries me over the threshold, bridal style in his arms, once again making me feel tiny. The feeling isn’t so bad, I think, I could get used to this. 

Sam deposits me gently on the bed, tossing my bag onto the sofa by the window. I look around dazedly, noticing that there’s only one bed. 

Panic flashes through me briefly, what if they’re trying to dump me here? Maybe that was the plan all along. I try to get a grip on my fear, stifling it. I take a deep breath, exhaling through my mouth.

Sam’s attention is on me, head tilted curiously, “You okay?”

I nod, a little too fast, “Yeah, I’m good. Why do you ask?”

His eyes narrow a bit, but he lets it go, “Dean’s out grabbing some dinner. We’ve got the room next to yours,” he points to a door I hadn’t noticed before, “Connecting door, so if you need anything just ask.”

“Great, thanks,” my voice still sounds a little shaky, but I fake a yawn, and he seems to pass it off as sleepiness. 

“Alright, well I’m gonna grab a quick shower, holler if you need anything.” I give him a thumbs up. 

“Sure thing, Sam.” He gives me a weird look, but makes his way to his own room. I hold my breath till I hear the shower turn on, and then let it out in a rush. I slip off the bed, swinging my arms in the air. 

The room is lacking in decor, a queen sized bed with plain white sheets, a garish red sofa, next to which stands a table. 

I glance to the other side of the room. A mirror sits atop a dresser, and there’s a painting of a clown on the wall next to the bathroom door. 

I grimace at the clown, please don’t kill me in my sleep. The painting simply grins back at me, lips stretched creepily. Well, there go my chances of sleeping tonight. 

Sam had said Dean was grabbing some dinner, so I decide to kill time by going over the files again. The stack looks daunting from where Sam placed it on the table, but I  
make my way over and slouch in the chair with a groan.

I jot a couple notes as I go, scrawl barely legible. I look up, noticing how dark it had gotten so quickly. A chill goes through me, I don’t like the feeling of being alone in  
the dark. Shaking my head, I brush it off. Concentrate. 

A knock at the door gets my attention. I get up swiftly, taking the gun out of my waistband, pointed at the ground. I check behind the curtain, but I can’t see the door. Guess we’ll do this the hard way, I think.

I unlatch the door. It swings open to reveal Dean, anxiously playing with his sleeves. I laugh, a bit hysteric, and tuck the gun back into my pants. “Jeez, Dean, you scared me.”

“You’re the one who just had a gun to my head,” he admonishes, “I just wanted to let you know Sammy and I are having dinner in our room, if you wanted to come over.” I lean against the doorframe, surveying him. 

“What’s for dinner?”

A grin spreads over his face, “Pizza.”

“There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?” I narrow my eyes at him. He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, 

“I also may have gotten pie for dessert. Don’t tell Sam!”

I cheer silently, pulling Dean into a hug. “You’re amazing! Tell Sam we’re gonna go over the case again, and we’ll sneak the pie into my room after dinner.” He laughs, arms tightening around my middle. 

“Sounds like a plan, doll.” I hide my blush in his chest, pulling back after a moment. He smiles down at me brightly, and tugs my hand, “C’mon, Sammy’ll get suspicious.”

I allow myself to be pulled into the boys’ room, the heavenly smell of pizza making my stomach growl. “Someone’s hungry,” Sam makes room for me sit next to him at the table and I take a slice.

“Mhm,” I moan, “Thanks, Dean.”

He nudges my knee in response, eyes closing as he bites into his own slice. I bounce a little on the couch next to Sam, thoroughly enjoying my pizza. “I love pizza,” I sigh happily, continuing my happy food dance, which Sam laughs at. 

“Hey, I can’t help it!” I defend, but he just smiles. Dean starts mocking me, taking it to another level as he gets up to parade around the room with his slice. 

“Yeah? Me and Pizza are _ballroom dancing. _Beat that.”__

____

__

I whisper in Sam’s ear, and he nods, giggling. We both get up, pizza slice still in my hands. Sam takes a hold of my waist, lifting me up like the man in an ice skating duo.  
From there, I raise my slice to the heavens- the perfect picture of beauty and grace. 

At the incredulous look on Dean’s face, I begin to giggle, “Sam, put me down.” He obeys, and I’m on solid ground once again. “Nice work, partner,” I grin up at him. He laughs, mirth making his hazel eyes look greener than usual. 

We finish our dinner, and I give Dean the signal, having a hard time keeping a straight face. 

“Hey, Liz, what’dya think about comparing thoughts on the case for a bit before heading to bed?” 

I shrug, “Sounds good to me, Dean-o. Don’t forget your _notes.”_

____

____

He moves to the fridge, “You want a beer?” 

“I’ll take one.” I take the beer, and the pie from his hands when Sam’s back is turned, scurrying through the connecting door to my room. 

Dean comes in soon after, holding two forks in his hand. I take one, taking a bite, “Mmm, apple… You did good on this one, Dean.”

After stuffing ourselves to the brim with the pastry, I yawn, “I think I’m ready to go into a food coma right about now.” I get up to put the forks away, stopping short when I see Sam in the door frame. I gulp, “Uh, how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to see that you’ve been enjoying a little treat without me,” his voice is low, “That’s a little naughty, wouldn’t you say?”

“I-I mean…is it?” My voice is strained, his words going straight to the ball of heat beginning to curl in my stomach. 

“I think maybe she should be punished, huh, Dean?” Suddenly, there seems to be a slight wet spot between my legs, and a shiver going down my spine. I dart behind Dean, 

“Dean, you’ll protect me, right?” The look in his eyes alludes that he’s not on my side this time, _“Right?” ___

____

____

Dean laughs, grabbing my waist. He tosses me on the bed gently, where he attacks my ribs with deft fingers. I squeal, “Dean, stop! Sam! Sam, make him stop- Help!”

Sam stalks to the edge of the bed, smirk on his lips. His large hands find the sensitive spot right under my armpits, torture ensuing shortly after. 

I’m a teary mess within minutes, “Guys, I’m gonna-gonna PEE! I’m gonna pee- I swear!” the boys simply continue their ministrations, “I’m serious!”

Sam relents a tiny bit, in a sing-song voice, “What’s the magic word?”

“Pie!” I shout, the word collapsing into a hysteric laugh as they double their efforts. 

“Nope, not quite,” Dean negates, “Better say it quick, Liz.”

“Stop-I’m gonna-,” Panic rises in my chest as I realize I’m wetting the bed, it’s out of my control now. Hot tears flow from my cheeks, not from laughter this time. 

Sam seems to realize what happened and he steps back, “Dean. Dean, stop.”

Both of them have stopped tickling me now, and I close my eyes tightly as shame washes over me. I try to keep my voice even, “Told you I wasn’t jokin’.”

I cover my face with my arms, “I’ll clean it up, you guys just go t’ bed.”

Sam takes my wrists in his hands, pulling them away from my face, “I’m sorry, Liz. It’s not your fault.”

For some reason, this makes me feel worse, and a quiet sob wrenches its way out of my throat. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s alright,” Sam pulls me to sit up, “Shh, it’s okay.” 

“Come on, doll, lets get you out of these pants, and then you can shower, and go lie down in our room, okay?” Dean offers gently, and I nod, more tears washing over my cheeks. 

Dean goes to turn on the water in the shower, and Sam takes off my socks. “I’m gonna let you finish getting undressed by yourself, okay?” I nod. “Can you do that for me?” 

I nod again. “Good girl.”

I flush, heat shooting through me at the name. You don’t deserve to be called that, my mind hisses at me, you’re nothing but a whore. I flinch, brushing off tears and shooing Sam out. He goes, casting nervous glances at me every couple steps on his way out. He shuts the door behind him quietly.

I strip, throwing the clothes somewhere on the floor, and get in the shower as fast as I can, trying to wash away the shame. I choke down another sob as my mind replays the scene. Things were going so well before, of course I had to ruin the night, by wetting the bed. 

I scrub myself clean, getting out and wrapping myself in the fluffy towel. I tiptoe to my duffel, and grab some pajamas- just a pair of shorts and a T-shirt with “You’re a Wizard, Harry” in big letters. It had been a gag gift from the boys when they realized my obsession with the Harry Potter series. 

I’m pulling my wet hair out of the back of the shirt as there’s a knock on the door, “You ready, Liz?” It’s Sam, and I can’t help but worry what he’ll think.

A small tremor begins in my hands, working its way through me until I’m shaking all over. I try to collect myself, tears brimming once again. You can’t go in there, they’ll hate you, the voice in my head whispers. 

There’s another knock, more insistent this time. “Elizabeth. I’m gonna let myself in, okay?” 

I jerk up, wiping my cheeks, and kicking the dirty clothes into the bathroom. As I come out, the door opens to reveal Sam. He’s changed into pajamas as well, a worn, dark blue T-shirt and grey sweatpants. He looks soft and cuddly, but the worry is clear on his face.

He strides over to me, pulling me to his chest, “C’mere.” I allow him to hug me for a second, pulling back quickly. 

“I called the maid, so there should be fresh sheets coming soon, but for now, why don’t you come to our room.” I’m about to protest, but he beats me to it, “I really wasn’t asking, Elizabeth.” The use of my full name grounds me, and I look up at him with big eyes. 

“I-I’m sorry,” my voice is shaky and scared, “You guys don’t have to take care of this, really.” Sam looks down at me, brows furrowed,

“Hey, it’s okay- nobody got hurt, right?” He presses. I give a small shrug, just my dignity, not that it matters. 

“Still, ‘m sorry, Sammy,” I curl in on myself a bit more, hands clenched to hide their incessant shaking. He sighs, and shame swirls in my stomach. He’s disappointed.

“We can talk about this more in the other room. Now, c’mon.” He takes a hold of my hand and guides me through the connecting door to his and Dean’s shared room. Dean is on the bed closest to the door, already under the covers. He gives me a smile and opens his arms wide.

“There you are, Liz. I was starting to worry that creepy clown painting had gotten ya.” My eyes snap up to meet his, fear ghosting through me at the reminder of its creepy grin. Dean’s expression changes, smile dropping, “Aw, I didn’t mean to scare ya.”

I shrug, dropping my eyes to the floor- not before seeing Dean shoot Sam a worried glance. “Hey, no clowns are gonna get you in here, alright?”

I flick my eyes up, looking at Sam quickly for reassurance. 

“That’s right, we’ll protect you.” Sam accedes, “C’mon, lets get you into bed now.” He ushers me closer to Dean, who pulls back the covers for me and opens his arms again. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with sharing?” I ask quietly, unsure. 

Dean pulls me into his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of my head, “Of course I am, baby girl.” I close my eyes as the name sends a burst of warmth through me. I bring my arms up, fists by my face. 

My thumb swipes across my lower lip, and I have an odd temptation to take it into my mouth. I shake my head, tucking my hands under my chest.

“You okay?” Dean asks softly. Tears brim, once again threatening to spill over and expose my shame and guilt. I don’t answer, just tuck my face into the crook of his neck, fiddling with the sleeve of his shirt. He tightens his hold on me, “You don’t have to answer, just let me take care of you, alright?”

“Sam’s gonna be mad,” I whisper into his shoulder. Dean pulls back a bit to look at my face.

“Why do you think Sam’s gonna be mad, baby girl?” Again with the names, I think, head fogging with endorphins. I frown,

“Because I-I…” I trail off, not knowing how to word what had happened.

“Because of your accident?” Dean fills in for me, and I nod, face flushing hotly with embarrassment. “I promise he’s not mad. Sammy’s a big ole softie, especially when it comes to you. We both are.” He punctuates his words with a gentle squeeze of his arms, pulling the covers higher over us. 

I let my eyes slip closed as he smooths a warm hand over my shoulder. “Close your eyes,” he soothes, “Shh, that’s it.”

I keep them closed until his breathing evens out, hand coming to rest on my back. I lift my head from his chest, looking at Sam across the room. He’s sitting on the couch, laptop screen illuminating his features. 

He purses his lips, face scrunched in concentration as his eyes track something on the screen. 

I sit up more, Dean’s arms falling slack around me. Sam leans back to scribble something down, nodding as he reads over it again. He glances over to where Dean and I are lying, sending me a soft smile as he sees that I’m awake. 

He pats the couch next to him softly, as if saying, “Come sit.”

I slide out from Dean’s grasp, tucking the blanket back over him. He looks peaceful, and I press a quick kiss to his forehead. 

I take a seat on the couch, curling up with my knees hugged to my chest, “Whatcha lookin’ at?”

He exhales through his nose, “Just going over some possible leads. What about you? Couldn’t sleep?” I shake my head, 

“Just thinkin’,” I shrug. His lips quirk up in a small smile and he hooks an arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side. I blush, relishing in the protected feeling. 

“Anything you wanted to talk about?” He inquires, and I wonder if I imagined the slightly suggestive tone to his voice. I look up at him, mouth parted slightly, 

“Like what?” I scoot further into him.

“Maybe tell me who’s idea it was to sneak pie behind my back.” He accentuates his accusation with a pointed look. I shrink under it, 

“Uh,” I glance over at Dean, straightening up, “It was mine.”

“Now,” he concedes, “Is that the truth?” A small pool of warmth begins to coil in my stomach at the tone his voice takes. I blink up at him, nodding. 

My voice is small when the next words leave my mouth, “I’m sorry for being a bad girl.” His eyes widen a bit, turning dark suddenly. 

“Can you tell me why you were a bad girl?” His voice sounds rough, low and throaty. 

“Cause I went behind your back. Didn’t ask for your permission.”I bite my lip, eyes glued to his face, waiting for a reaction. 

“That was naughty of you.” His hand comes up to rest on the back of my neck, “But I think you’ve learned your lesson, haven’t you?”

My eyes have slipped shut, the warmth at the back of my neck lulling me into a daze, but I snap to at the question, “Yes, sir.”

The name slips out before I can stop it, his breath hitches at it, and the hold on me tightens. 

“Good girl.”


	6. Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit after Liz's incident, she and the boys are on another hunt. When she offers to be bait catch the monster they hunt, Sam is less than happy. Liz takes it personally, and there are a few developments.

I wake up, stretching with a groan. Dean chuckles from beside me, “Sore?” I smack his arm.

“Dean, we were in the car all day, yes I’m a little sore.” I snap, eyes widening immediately after, “I’m sorry, Dean-“

He cuts me off, “It’s okay, I get it.”

Guilt swirls through me as he slips out from the warmth of the bed, tugging his shirt over his head, “I’m gonna grab a quick shower. Why don’t you go get us some breakfast?”

“Yeah, yeah of course.” I smooth over my arm with a hand, “You want anything in specific?”

He throws a, “nah,” over his shoulder as he steps into the bathroom, leaving me to myself on the queen sized bed.

I slide off the bed, suddenly daunted by the small task of going to get the boys and myself breakfast. I brush the feeling aside, shaking my head to clear it. “Come on, Liz,” I mutter, “Get it together.”

I rustle through my bag to grab a change of clothes, ending up with a pair of jeans and a long sleeve, one of Sam’s that had ended up in my laundry. It’s too big and hangs loosely on my frame, giving me an odd sense of comfort.

I comb my hair quickly, grabbing a wallet and a room key, fidgeting with them in my hands for a moment before exiting the room and locking the door behind me.

Blowing out the air in my cheeks, I begin the trek to the nearest cafe or bakery I can find. The least I can do to make up for my little outburst is get Dean some pie, or something with bacon in it.

Maybe not pie, I think, embarrassment heating my face as I recall the events of last week. Neither of the boys had made a big deal out of it, in favor getting over it and on with the hunt. Sam and I still hadn’t discussed whatever had happened after, though the memory brings heat to my cheeks.

I move through the line at the farmer’s market, paying for our breakfast with cash. My eyes skim over a few other vendors’ stalls, nothing peaking my interest much.I wrap the arm that’s not holding the groceries around myself, still feeling the morning chill, and get a move on.

It sounds like the boys are arguing when I make it back to the motel. I stand outside the door, listening in.

“I know, alright?” It’s Dean, huffing in exasperation, “It’s just…we’ve looked through all the lore, dad’s journal, and there’s nothing. Nada. Zilch.”

I choose this moment to unlock the door, dropping a smile at the boys, “Hey guys.”

Sam smiles back, tight lipped, and mine fades a bit. Dean just looks at me, face grim. “I, uh… brought some food. Sam, I got some stuff from the market for you,” I hold out the buttered croissant and a few apples.

He takes them from me with a grateful smile, warm hands brushing against mine. His eyes meet mine, and he gives a soft, “Thank you.”

I then take out Dean’s sandwich, which I had gotten from a local deli, and toss it to him. He catches it, eyes zoning in on his meal immediately. He grunts a thanks as well before unwrapping it and digging in.

I take my own breakfast out last, taking a sip of the now lukewarm liquid. I sit on the table, moving a few books to make room. “Anything new?”

Dean’s face sours, and I immediately regret asking. Sam sighs across from me, hand holding the apple dropping to his lap. “I take that as a no, then,” I set down my coffee, “Well, looks like the only thing we can do is bait it.”

Both boys jump to protest, Sam beating Dean to the punch. “Why is this always the first idea that comes to mind?”

I shrug, “Cause it works.”

Dean grimaces, “Can’t argue there.”

Sam looks at me, eyes hard. “You’re not doing that again.” I open my mouth to argue, but he cuts me off, “You saw how it ended last time, Elizabeth. I’m not letting you do that again.”

“Sammy, she’s an adult. Let her make her own decisions. If it works, it works, and we can gank this sunnovabitch.” Dean’s eyebrows are raised, lips pursed.

I cross my arms over my chest, “Yeah, what he said.”

Sam shoots me a look, one that I fight the urge to shrink under. I point to myself, “Adult.”

He rolls his eyes, shoving a finger at me. “ _Child_.” I stick my tongue out at him behind his back as he walks away. I ignore the the voice that tells me I’m proving his point, choosing not to let it sting when he grabs his jacket and slams the motel room door behind him.

I turn to Dean. “Well, what’s the plan?”

 

It’s cold out, and I grit my teeth to keep them from chattering. I keep walking, making sure to sway a little more than necessary. Whatever this is, it’s praying on drunk or otherwise drugged victims. I only hope my acting is good enough to lure it in.

I stumble a little, letting a giggle escape my lips with an, “Oopsie.”

The air turns colder, and I shudder. A laugh bounces off the walls of the alley somewhere behind me, and I shudder again, though not from the cold this time.

I force myself to keep walking, the temperature seeming to drop more the further I go. I can feel my fingers going numb, and I mentally berate myself for wearing so little clothing. I whip around when another laugh echoes, this time seeming to come from right behind me.

There’s nobody there, and I can feel my heart start to pound in my chest. I have a knife tucked up my skirt, and the thought manages to give me some feeling of reassurance.

I exhale, breath puffy and white in the cold, and keep moving. There’re footsteps, just to my left. My head snaps in their direction, but they’ve faded again. I regret my idea of using myself as bait, this was giving me the heebs and the jeebs.

More footsteps come from my right, and there’s a hot breath on my neck. I stumble forward, hand slapping over the place where it had touched. “Who’s there?” I will my voice to come out steady.

All I get in response is another laugh, and then there are hands wrapped around my wrists, grip tight enough to bruise. I try to yank my hands away, but the force only gets stronger.

I try not to scream. My heart pounds erratically, thrumming in my ears. I can’t see my assailant, and I can’t reach my knife. Oh god, I think, all I _can_ do is scream.

Upon hearing me, Sam and Dean come running, each from opposite ends. At the sight of the boys, the grip on my wrists turns to steel, and I scream again, this time in pain.

The creature takes shape, almost a man, only more bony and hunched. It’s deathly pale, eyes sunken, and it grins sharply. “This one’s not for sharing, oh no.”

He’s looking at Sam, not noticing how Dean sneaks up behind him, stake in hand. I notice a few odd sigils carved into it, but I quickly divert my attention from Dean back to Sam.

“Sam, please! Help- you’ve got to help me!” I beg, eyes brimming with tears. Sam looks tortured, brows furrowed in anger as he brandishes his knife.

The creature is something I’ve never seen before, and it blinks its pale eyes at me, “No, no. No helping her,” he warns, pulling me closer to him. I stumble, giving Dean the time he needs to drive the stake into the thing’s chest. It releases its grip on my arms, angry words gargling in its throat as blood drips from its chin and it collapses.

Sam is on me in a second, wrapping me in his jacket and cradling me into his arms. I turn into them, biting back tears. “Shh,” he soothes, “I’ve got you now, you’re safe, I promise, you’re safe.”

I allow his words to wash over me, trying to let them slow the rush of my blood in my ears. Dean moves behind me and pets a hand over my hair, “I’ll handle cleanup, why don’t you get her back to the motel, Sammy.”

Sam nods, and I shift in his hold to let him get up. He pulls me into his side, ushering me towards the Impala. I look back at Dean, surprised that he’d let Sam drive his baby. He glances up, meeting my eye. The look on his face gives away more than I suspect he wanted it to, and I send a small smile of gratitude. He jerks a nod and then looks away.

I slide into the passenger seat of the Impala, door creaking as Sam closes it for me. I huddle further into his jacket as he slides in next to me and ignites the engine. Baby purrs to life, and Sam pulls away from the dark alley. “I’m never going here again,” I say, pressing myself into the seat. I look back at Sam, surprised at the poorly veiled anger I see on his face.

“Are…” I trail off, swallowing before beginning again, “Are you mad at me?”

The way his jaw clenches answers my question. Hurt punches me in the gut, and I swallow thickly. I glance at him again, but he remains impassive. I press myself against the window, staring out into the night, trying not to let his silence hurt my feelings.

The rest of the ride goes quickly, a surge of relief overcoming me as we pull into the motel. I jump out of the car before it’s really parked, and I can feel the hot glare it earns me from Sam on the back of my neck. I ignore it, simply scuffing my feet against the ground as I wait for him to unlock the motel door.

He does so, still silent, but lets me go in first. As soon as I’m inside, I slip the knife out of my skirt and place it on the nightstand. Next, I strip Sam’s jacket from my shoulders, holding it out to him without looking in his eyes.

He takes it after a moment, the last sense of comfort leaving me with it. I mumble something about changing, to which he replies, “Let me see your arms first.”

I hold them out for him to see, wrists now purpling with bruises. I shut my eyes, pushing down the memories the bruises dig up. I hiss slightly as he presses down on one of them, forcing myself to open my eyes again.

When I do, he’s looking down at me with something I can’t decipher. It looks like a mixture of anger and concern, and I pull my hand out of his. “Nothing you can do about bruises. They’ll be gone in a week.”

He doesn’t say anything, and I grab a sweatshirt from my bag, ducking into the bathroom to change.

I let the door click shut behind me as I stare into the mirror. I look down at my wrists, hands clutching the sink tightly. Tears prick at my eyes as the memory plays out.

_It stings, the whip. First, he draws it across my stomach like a tease, and then he slashes me with it across the face. I flinch, hands tugging weakly at the handcuffs holding my arms above me._

_“Ah, ah, ah.” Allister tuts, “Thought I taught you better than that.”_

_I don’t respond, earning me a, “Lousy bitch,” and another slash of the whip._

I come out of the memory with a gasp, rubbing at the bruises on my wrists. I splash water on my face, hopefully disguising any evidence of me having cried. I quickly strip my skirt and top, pulling the big sweatshirt over me. It’s Dean’s, one I stole a while ago.

I flick off the lights, padding quietly into the room. Dean is back, and he gives me a smile when he recognizes my apparel. I smile sheepishly.

I turn to Sam, “Sam, I’m so-“

He cuts me off, “Go to sleep. You can take the other bed, I’ll take the couch.”

I snap my mouth shut as my feelings take another hit. My head sinks, and I trudge over to the bed. I glance back at Sam, but he just meets my eyes with a cold gaze.

I slide into the bed, back to both the boys and pull the covers up to my neck. I can’t help the frown that tugs at my mouth, and I begin worrying my lip with my fingers. I let my thoughts spiral, going over the scene from earlier. The sound of the creature’s giggle resonates in my mind, and fear shoots through me, but my small gasp is muffled.

I come out of my thoughts, realizing my thumb had muffled the sound from its position in my mouth. When had that happened? Confused, I pull it from my mouth.

However, as the digit leaves my mouth, tears burn my eyes again, threatening to fall at an increasing rate. Experimentally, I pull the finger back into my mouth, sucking gently a few times. The effect is almost immediate. The burn behind my eyes lessens to a few tears that manage to slip out, and my thoughts settle to a slower rhythm. I continue to suck on it, ignoring the part of me that protests such a childish action.

It soothes me, and I let my eyes slip shut. Sam did call me a child, after all. I was just proving him right.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the comments, I love reading them and they inspire me to post new chapters! Let me know what you'd like to see. I will try to incorporate and develop more little liz. More coming soon!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting a little more into Sam and Dean acknowledging her little side, even if they don't necessarily recognize it for that it is yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments! Please continue leaving them if you enjoy or there is something you want to see happen. I will try to update more regularly, but unfortunately I can't make any promises.

When I wake up the next morning, there’s a puddle of drool on the pillow next to me and I wipe my cheek with my sleeve. I sit up, blankets still wrapped around me. I rub my eyes, a big yawn overtaking me.

When I open my eyes again, Dean is watching me with a fond expression. I blush, smiling shyly. He grins, and warmth floods me. At least one of the brothers isn’t mad at me.

I break out of my thoughts, looking around the room. Noticing Sam is gone, I turn back to Dean. “Hey, where’d Sammy go?”

He blinks, pausing for a second. “Went for a run, said he didn’t know when he’d be back.”

I nod, sighing lightly. “When did you wanna get on the road today?”

“Whenever Sammy gets back, really.” He looks tired, “I’m ready to get back home.”

I nod again, “Me too.” I untangle myself from the sheets, pouting at Dean when he chuckles at my antics. Once out of bed, I grab my things, stuffing them into my bag unceremoniously.

“I’m gonna shower, lemme know when we’re ready to go.” I stand with my hands on my hips, waiting for Dean’s nod in response, and then make my way to the bathroom.

 

The warm water feels good on my skin, helping to ease my tense muscles. I sigh into the spray, and get to washing.

I’ve just finished pulling on fresh clothes when Dean knocks and pokes his head in the door, “5 minutes, Liz.”

I pull my wet hair out of the back of my shirt, grunting an acknowledgement.

Sam is crunching on an apple when I come out, but he doesn’t seem to see me. “Morning, Sam,” I try hopefully. There’s no response. I sigh, grabbing my bag and joining Dean outside.

I squint at the bright sunlight, “How long is he gonna be mad at me?”

Dean shrugs, “Dunno. Might wanna prepare for the worst, though.” He shoots me a glance and then closes the trunk.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I challenge, trying to catch his gaze again. He flicks his eyes at me, then looks off behind me, muttering,

“Speak of the devil…”

I try one more time, “Hey, Sam.” Again, he doesn’t respond, just pulls open the passenger door and swings his large body inside. I roll my eyes. Fine, two can play at that game.

I slide into the back seat, forgoing a seatbelt in favor of spreading my legs out across the seat to be more comfortable.

Dean meets my eyes in the rearview mirror, surveying my position. I stick my chin out a tiny bit, daring him to say something. He holds my gaze another second, but then his eyes flick back to the road and he turns up the radio.

I relax a bit, settling in for the ride as the scenery starts to blur by. Before I know it, my eyes are drooping and my head sags against the window. Sleep overtakes me in no time.

 

A sudden bump jolts me awake. I manage to catch myself, stopping myself from hitting the seat in front of me- Sam’s, I realize. I rub my eyes again, and look around. “Where‘re we goin’?” I mumble, sleep slurring my words.

Dean chuckles softly, “We’re goin’ home.”

“Oh,” I murmur, pieces coming together slowly in my head. “How far ‘way are we?”

“Not much longer,” he assures and, noticing my eyes drooping again, adds, “Go back to sleep though, you need it.”

I grumble a little, but curl up and let the dreams swallow me again.

 

This time, when I wake up, it’s because Dean’s shaking me gently. “Come on, Liz. We’re home.” I blink up at him owlishly, stirring slowly.

“ ‘m tired, Dean.” His features soften,

“I know you are,” he seems to think for a moment, then calls something to Sam softly before turning back to me. “Want me to carry you to bed?”

I nod, reaching to wrap my arms around his neck as he reaches into the car to pull me into his arms. He adjusts his grip, one hand coming to coax my legs into wrapping themselves around his waist. I do so, securing my hold on him.

“There you go,” he murmurs gently. Warmth floods me, and I sigh into his shoulder happily.

Once get inside, he brings me over to the couch, setting me down gently. I smile up at him, lower lip caught between my teeth, “Thanks, Dean.”

He smiles warmly at me, before turning to grab a bag off the floor. I realize it’s mine, and I jump up from the couch, suddenly awake, “Oh, Dean, you don’t have to do that.”

He turns back to me and his hands come up to capture my arms, “Hey, hey,” his voice is soft, yet firm, “Let me get this for you. All you gotta do is come with me and get into bed, alright?”

I nod hazily, head foggy with something sweet. My feet are stuck to the floor when he lets go and ushers me to follow.

He takes ahold of my hand once again, “Come on, sweetheart.” It takes a moment, but his words find their way to my brain’s command center, and suddenly my legs work again.

He smiles at me when I take stumble forward a few steps, “That’s it.”

I can’t help but smile back, warmth sparking inside me.

When we reach my bedroom, Dean sets my duffel on the ground at the foot of the bed. I get up onto the bed, tugging at the covers weakly. Dean chuckles a little, “Need some help there?”

I give up on them, sighing a defeated, “Yeah. Can you do it please?” When I look up, his eyes are crinkled at the corners and his face is split by a wide grin.

“Since you asked so nicely…” He easily tugs the covers out from under the pillows. “Now, why don’t you get some jammies on while I go talk to Sammy, alright?”

I nod, face slipping a bit at the mention of Sam. However, I comply with Dean’s orders and carelessly tug off my clothes. They end up strewn on the floor, to which I simply shrug and don my pajamas. They’re a simple pair of fuzzy pants with candy canes on them, and a soft black t-shirt.

Once I’ve completed the set task, I clamber back onto the bed and slide under the covers.

My eyes are just slipping shut when I hear a knock on the door. I forgo a response, opting to curl further into my blankets.

The door clicks open and familiar footsteps pad to my bedside.

“Hey there.” Sam’s weight settles on the bed. “Is my favorite girl still up?”

The nickname evokes a flurry of emotions within me, heat flaming my cheeks. I crack my eyes open, blinking up at him.

He smiles, a small twitch of his lips. It disappears momentarily, overtaken by a look of guilt. “I want to apologize.”

“Wha’ for?” My voice is slurred, though it’s obvious I know exactly what he’s referring to. Puppy eyes fly up to meet my wide gaze.

“Liz.” I clutch the blankets tighter to me. “I’ve been acting pretty childish myself. I mean, ignoring you? Dick move. I wanted to apologize for that, and anything else I said. I’m sorry.”

I nod slowly, “It’s okay, Sam. I wasn’t mad.” He sighs, and smooths over part of the blanket near him. A far off look overtakes his face.

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout, Sammy?”

“You.” His response is quick and clear, and I’m left unprepared for its effects on my feelings.

“What about me?” Hope tinges my tone.

He looks me in the eye, small smirk playing at his mouth. He looks as if he knows something I don’t.

“Sammy?” I inquire for the second time, more of a demanding edge to his name this time.

“Yes, little one?” My eyes flutter shut, and the warm feeling in my stomach is back.

When I meet his gaze again, he looks triumphant. “I’ve heard Cas use it before, figured I might try it out for myself.”

I frown a bit, “Isn’t that copying?”

He huffs a laugh. “I guess it is, Liz. What would you rather I called you?” I pull up the covers to hide my flushed face and mumble a response.

“Hmm? What was that, little one?” I grumble something unintelligible, only louder this time.

“I can’t hear you.” Somehow I know he’s got his hands in the air in a false shrug. “Guess that means I’m sticking with little one.” He pulls the covers away from my face slowly, “There you are! I was getting worried, you know.”

I giggle, “That’s silly, you knew where I was the whole time.”

He chuckles, “You’re right, I did.” He tugs the covers up further over me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I close my eyes and sigh at the contact, his hand warm on my cheek.

“Alright, sweetheart. Time for bed.” He gets up and the firmness of his words washes over me. I yawn, rolling towards him.

My eyes droop with exhaustion, and he shushes me softly when I try to keep them open, “Shh, close your eyes. There you go, that’s right. Good girl.”

I sigh contentedly, murmuring a, “Night, Sammy.”

He tucks the covers around me, filling me with nostalgia of when my mom used to tuck me in.

“Goodnight baby. Sweet dreams.”

Sam’s, “baby” floats around in my mind as sleep overcomes me, filling me with warmth.


	8. Angel Grace in... a Baby Bottle?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I haven't updated in a while, things have been crazy. Please let me know if you like and want more or have any specific things you want to see!

The blow comes unexpectedly, and it hits me squarely in the temple. I cry out and my hand rushes to the point of impact. It comes away bloody and I swoon, vision going spotty. My knees crumple and I slump against my elbow, which digs painfully into the ground, hand blurring in front of my eyes.

The vampire's boot stomps between my legs, black, with a steel toe. A thick, veiny hand shoots out and hand grabs ahold of my neck, hoisting me high into the air. My head begins to pound from the lack of oxygen. I kick weakly and my eyes burn from the unshed tears that prick at them. Finally, I get a good kick in and I hit the ground hard, as he releases his chokehold on me with a hiss. 

I cough painfully as I try to focus and hold shaking arms in front of my head to protect it from the bat swinging my way, again. My head is pounding, and my lungs burn with the effort of sucking in breaths. Tears squeeze from my eyes without my permission. 

Gravel sprays up and my lungs burn with dust as Sam skids to a stop before me. I barely register the shotgun going off, blinking away the sleepy feeling for long enough to see the man crumple and the bat drop to the ground with a muffled thud. I wheeze, trying to push myself up from the ground, away from the scene as panic squeezes inside my chest.

"Sammy...?" There's a dizzying flurry of sounds, and my head swings back and forth to catalogue them all. Pain blooms at my temple and I can't stop my head from lolling back for a moment. "S'mmy!"

He pants, eyes alight with what looks like fear. "I'm gonna be right there, okay? Okay, Liz?" 

I try to nod: a mistake as it immediately causes my vision to short out. I blink rapidly, and the chaos ensuing in front of me drifts out of reality, reminding me oddly of the feeling I used to get when I falling asleep watching a film as a child, and my eyes threaten to slip shut. 

"Sammy? Don' feel so goood." I swallow and open my mouth. Blood dribbles from the corner. Fear pumps through me.

I need to tell Sammy...need to tell... The world seems to turn off like a screen, going dark and soundless in one terrifying instant. 

\----

I hear them before I can force open my eyes. The gravel of Dean's voice is such a relief, but I can't force words out of my throat to respond to it. To ease the worry in his tone. But all I can manage is a weak grunt, and it takes a moment for my arms to respond before they finally come up to rub at my eyes. The effort takes enormous strength, and the effect is only marginal.

My eyes finally open after a minute of stubborn resistance. The lights are disorienting for a moment before my eyes finally adjust and I can make out two very concerned blue eyes. My face breaks into a smile, and I ignore the split lip that protests at the movement. I try to call out to Cas, but my voice breaks at a whisper. The frown that spreads across my face tugs at my lip in a different way. 

"Shh, don't try to talk." The angel's hand smooths over my head, brushing over the injury there lightly. My face scrunches up in pain. His hand jumps up off me, and I miss the comfort. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth, I'm trying to fix this."

The confusion must be evident on my face, and thank god the two know me well enough to read my face, because my questions and queries remain stuck in my raw throat.

It's Dean who speaks up after a moment. He rolls up the cuff of his flannel with a frown. "Baby girl... When that vamp attacked you, he..." His voice loses some of it's composure. "Your vocal chords got kinda damaged." He looks up at you, eyes sad. "Cas tried to do his mojo, but he can't get in through your head cause he's blocked somehow."

"I'm sorry." The remorse in Cas' voice hurts more than the news. I close my eyes again, swallowing the pain down past the growing lump in my throat. I shake my head- no don't apologize, it's not your fault, I want to say. 

I force my eyes back open, looking around wildly. Where is Sam? Hurt digs into me a little deeper. Why isn't he here?  _It's because he doesn't care about you,_ the voice in my head whispers, and it's enough to make tears prick at my eyes.

My hand curls into a fist, blanket trapped inside of it. The softness of it distracts me momentarily, and I reopen my eyes to look down and study it where it covers most of my torso. Whoever put it on me did a good job of tucking me in. Again, I find it a little harder to breath when reminded that Sam isn't here. I look to Cas for help, asking with my eyes.  _Where is he?_

"Sam is trying to figure out ways to help you." Relief washes over me. Thank God. _He doesn't hate you._ "When I tried to heal you with my grace, something happened." Cas pauses, brows furrowing as if he's trying to stitch his words together carefully. 

At the worry on my face, he re-explains, demonstrating by placing two fingers on Dean's forehead. "I tried my usual...mojo, like so, but it was like I didn't have access anymore."

Dean cuts in, "It knocked you out for two days." It rushes out in one breath, and, more slowly this time, he adds, "And you weren't healing, even at a normal pace. That's what's got Sam so worried." 

I nod, hand rubbing my neck lightly. What if I could never speak again? I suddenly remember the bat I took to the head and, upon the thought, it begins to hurt again. I wince, clutching it tenderly with a grimace. 

Both Dean and Cas look pained as I squint up at them from behind my hand.

"It's okay," I mouth, trying to reassure them. 

Dean swipes a hand over his mouth, obviously tormented over this. Guilt builds and sits in my stomach like a stone. I suddenly feel like I should be alone, like I don't deserve the boys worrying over me and Sam pouring energy into a search for an aid to me.

The blanket becomes more of a cover to hide behind than a source of warmth, and it's easy to sink down in my bed and tug it up high on my face. My body curls up of its own accord, and I ignore the pain and stiffness that comes with the sudden movements. My arms ache for something to hold and my hand slides up to my face in a fist. I restrain the urge to let my thumb slip past my lips, barely refraining from exposing my innermost desires to my two best friends. 

Annoying tears make their presence known as they slide down my cheeks and drip across my nose onto the pillow. I don't have the energy to wipe at them with the blanket, so I let them be. 

"Oh, baby girl," Dean coos as he notices, sliding onto the bed next to me. "It's okay, I promise. Let it out." His hand is warm and solid on my shoulder, and it pushes forward the next stream from my eyes. I hold in the sobs threatening to escape, and let Dean gently move me over to allow him to lie next to me. "It's alright, princess. I'm here."

The nicknames take away some of the worry, and make me feel small, like the responsibility is lifted from my shoulders. Like I'm being taken care of. I press forward into Dean's chest, hand releasing the blanket in favor of curling into his shirt. He smiles at me, soft and gentle. "There you go."

I look up at him with big eyes, mouth hanging slightly open as my thumb subconsciously hovers in front of the open space. A few more tears manage to trickle down my cheeks, each of which is diligently wiped away by Dean's thumb before it can leave a track down my face. 

He presses a kiss to the uninjured side of my head, and I allow myself to relax into him. I find my face sliding down the pillow, closer and closer to the source of comfort I'm struggling to further deny myself. My eyes flick up to Dean's again. His forest green orbs are so open and they shine with such love, that my body acts of it's own accord and takes my thumb into my mouth.

My eyes slip shut for a moment and I sigh, before they meet Dean's again. Realization settles on his face, but I can't remove the digit from my lips even in the duration it takes him to react. Finally, as I suck on it quietly, he nods encouragingly. "That helps, huh?" 

I nod, blinking wide eyes at him. 

"Okay, baby girl," he whispers, and then pulls the blanket up higher over me. Warmth spreads all throughout me at the gesture and the intense feeling of acceptance and the way I let go of the stress and worry of judgement. 

 ---

It's been weeks, and no luck finding a cure for my loss of voice. By now, my other injuries have mostly healed, but that hasn't stopped Sam from wanting to do everything for me. 

"There you go, sweetheart," he beams at me as he gets two cereal boxes down from the high shelf for me. I grin, choosing not to be embarrassed about the blush that covers my face as I let myself be taken care of. 

"Which one?"

I ponder the options for a second before pointing at the Fruit Loops in his right hand. 

"That's a good choice, Liz. Very yummy." 

I nod enthusiastically. Nodding has become my main form of communication, along with a vehement head shake for a "no".

The spoon stands upright in my fist as he prepares the bowl for me and slides it over with a smile. I feel more like a kid with each spoonful, biting back the "thank you, daddy" that builds up in my mouth and sits on my tongue. Not that he would hear what I said anyway, muteness and all, but the notion was still embarrassing. 

I let my thoughts drift as I ingest the sugary, typical breakfast, for dinner. I'd started sleeping later, and taking more naps, maybe due to the fact that I tended to stay up until one of the boys came to check on me and say goodnight. I always slept better after being tucked in, and they made it so easy to feel safe and taken care of. it didn't help that I was practically incapable of keeping my fingers out of my mouth at night. 

Sam's phone in my face pulls me out of my thoughts, and I pout as I realize he's taking pictures of me. He laughs, snapping another shot.

He calls Dean over to show him.

"You're adorable, you know that?" Dean's grin is blinding, and I can't help but smile back with a shy "no" head shake. 

He steals a spoonful of my Fruit Loops, and I furrow my brow to make an angry face in stead of shouting curse words to protest. He laughs and mutters, "Adorable." 

Cas appears suddenly, panting and bloody. I jump off the stool, alarmed. Both boys have similar reactions, only they spring to his aid, helping him over to the couch and immediately getting supplies to tend his wounds. It looks like he's sustained multiple lacerations to the side, and some of his feathers have been torn out. One flutters to the floor, and I pick it up quickly, not wanting it to get dirty from the ground.

"Hey, Liz, you don't have to be here for this, kay?" Sam throws over his shoulder. 

Surprise etches itself on my face. Why wouldn't I be here? My mouth hangs open, frustration pooling in my gut at the inability to defend myself. 

"We got this. Go on to bed, Dean or I'll be over soon to say night." This one sounds more like a instruction and less like a suggestion. Refusing to believe that they would kick me out, I stay and try to step in to grab supplies to help. Dean catches my arm before I can get anything. 

"He's right. We've got this covered. Go." There's tension in his voice, and both of them give me a look that says there's something I don't know about this. Hurt blooms in my chest, and I tear my arm from Dean's grasp and scurry to bed, closing the door behind me. I clutch the feather tightly to my chest, wanting to believe that it might help ease the pain at being kicked out and unneeded. 

I sit on the floor, sagging against the bed as tears make their way down my face. _They don't need me anymore. They don't even want me._ I pull my knees up to my chest, letting my emotions from the past weeks catch up with me. Silent sobs tear through me. Only the occasional gasp for a breath makes a sound and somehow it hurts even more to know that no one can hear me.

I hiccup as I stare at the feather in my hands. I miss the deep baritone of Cas's voice, and it segways into another flurry of sobs. 

I don't know how long I cry for before I finally tire myself out enough to sink down and curl up on the floor, tugging weakly at the blanket to have it cover part of my body. The feather remains clutched tightly to my chest in a plea not to be forgotten. Sleep comes soon after, although it's plagued by nightmares depicting various ways for the boys to abandon me. 

Each dream is interrupted by a fitful awakening, followed by another flow of tears. I decide to forego sleep, unable to take another bad dream. However, eventually, my fingers find my mouth, and it's not long before I drift off again. This time, I'm awakened by Sam. He's rubbing my shoulder softly, whispering something I can't quite make out. 

_Don't leave, please._ I want to beg, but nothing comes out, and I'm left feeling little and sad, not caring if Sam sees my hand in my mouth. He frowns,  _at me,_ eventually scooping me up in his arms. 

"Come on, I've got something for you." He sounds sad, and somewhat scared. 

This sends me into near panic, and I make a fuss trying to find the feather that must've escaped my grip during the night. "Shh, I've got it," Sam soothes, tickling my cheek with the soft tip. 

I turn away, still feeling hurt. More now, due to the worsening feeling of wanting to be taken care of and call Sam 'daddy'. Guilt swirls inside me. What would he think? 

He carries me to the couch, where Cas is no longer sitting, and I look around, trying to find him. "Cas went to bed, baby girl."

I cross my arms and hang my head as Sam sets me down, curling into the arm of the couch. 

He sighs, crouching down in front of me. "I think we found something, Elizabeth. Something that could really help you."

I meet his eyes wearily. 

"Do you trust me?" There's a hopeful smile resting on his face, and his eyes are wide and soft. 

I nod slowly. 

"Good girl." There's that warm feeling again.

He gets up, padding to the kitchen softly, returning with a bottle. It glows softly. It's mesmerizing, and I can't help but be drawn to its light, wanting to reach for it and hold it.

He settles on the couch next to me. "Come here, baby."

My anger is losing its grip quickly with the names and the way Sam's eyes beg me to forgive him. Slowly, I move into his lap, where he cradles me against his chest like you would a baby. The feeling eases something inside me, in a way I can't explain. 

"Comfy?" He asks, smiling down at me. I nod. This is maybe the comfiest position I've ever been in, and it feels the most protected and taken care of. "Good. Now, close your eyes, little one." 

It's unbelievably easy to listen to him, and my eyes shut. He adjusts his hold on me, supporting me more with one arm. Something touches my lips. 

"Open up, baby girl," Sam says softly. It's so gentle, and I trust him innately. 

I take the nipple of the bottle into my mouth, sighing at the warmth that flows through my entire body when I start sucking gently. Every small swallow feels like something in me is being mended, and I make a small noise of relaxation. 

"Such a good girl," Sam coos, "My good little girl."

It feels _so_ good to be called that, and nothing has ever seemed easier than continuing to suckle on the bottle of Cas's grace until Sam gently removes the nipple from my mouth. At my noise of protest, he slips one of his own fingers in as a replacement and, although surprised, I suck on it, relaxing once again. I've never felt this free or so comfortable in myself. 

"That's it, baby. There you go," Sam praises. It flushes me with warmth from head to toe, almost as much as Cas's grace did. He leans over gently to set the bottle down, and then returns his attention to me. He smiles down at me, and I notice then that my hands have grabbed onto his wrist, anchoring his hand in place. He chuckles softly as he sees that I've realized my actions.

"Cas said it might make you pretty relaxed, so you might not know what you're doing all the time." He explains, small smile on his face. It sounds more complicated to me than it should, and I frown around his finger. He gently pulls it out of my mouth, and unhappiness quickly pushes to the forefront of my mind.  _Give it back._  

"No, daddy!" The words are out of my mouth before I can even think about them. Oddly enough, saying them out loud doesn't feel as wrong as I thought it would. Sam freezes for a split second before he responds.

"That wasn't very nice of daddy, was it?"

I shake my head. "Noo." My fingers come up to my mouth again, toying with my lip. 

"But look who's talking again, huh, princess?" His smile is huge, and it's infectious. A small giggle leaves my lips and he beams. I don't understand the significance, due to the drug-like high of Cas's grace. 

"Are you full or should daddy make you some warm milk and get you back to bed, little one?" He sits up with me on his lap, tilting his head at me.

I give it a moment's thought, but the decision is easy when I remember the feeling of suckling from the bottle. "...Daddy make." 

Sam grins. "Alright baby." 

"Peas," I add, for politeness, 'cause manners matter, and dropping the l for ease of pronunciation.

"Good girl."

I smile softly around my thumb, and drop my head onto Sam's broad shoulder as he carries me on his hip into the kitchen to prepare the promised warm drink. 

Getting back to sleep that night is easier than it has been in months, nestled safely in Sam's arms, sucking lightly from the bottle, more as a comforting rhythm than for the contents within. Sam's constant praise and the warmth of his body heat are a lulling factor, and soon I'm releasing the nipple of the bottle softly to mumble a, "Love you daddy." 

Sam presses me even closer and kisses my head gently. "Goodnight, sweet girl. I love you so much."

I dream of angel wings and toy cars, and it is safe to say it's the best sleep I've ever had. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please give me suggestions for plot, character development, grammar fixations, etc- anything you see fit! Thanks for reading :)
> 
> Chapter lengths will vary, update times will vary as well.
> 
> Comment if you like and want more please- what would you like to see more of?


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